


Which, As They Kiss, Consume

by 8BitSkeleton



Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, F/M, FakeHaus, M/M, Minor Violence, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BitSkeleton/pseuds/8BitSkeleton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Adam wonders how his criminal lifestyle had led him to be so lucky.</p><p>(Seven intimate non-lip kisses between Adam and each one of his partners.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Which, As They Kiss, Consume

**Author's Note:**

> based off [this post](http://shiphaus.co.vu/post/140063659938) and inspired by the smell of blood in the mouth

**I. Sean**

Sean is high. That much is certain. Adam can smell it on his clothes when they pass each other in the hallway. Sean is coming out of the bathroom and Adam is on his way to the bedroom. Sean smiles at Adam as they pass, and it makes Adam’s nose wrinkle so he follows the smell all the way into his master bedroom’s shower. Sean hotboxed it again. The smell is in Adam’s towels, goddamn it.

Adam sighs and seeks out Sean, finds him with his head stuck in the fridge, sorting through the various drinks and cartons with a measured pace. Adam crosses his arms on his chest and watches Sean finally choose the tub of mayonnaise, the packet of cheese, the jar of jelly.

Adam stifles his laugh and walks forwards, says, “Spoole,” and lays a soft hand on Sean’s shoulder. Sean startles, but calms down as soon as he turns his head and registers who’s touched him. Sean smiles and says, “Adam!” It makes Adam smile, too.

Adam says, “Sit down, I’ll make you a sandwich.”

Sean beams at Adam as he hands him the food contents. Adam takes them from him and gathers the ingredients to make Sean a grilled cheese, because more often than not, that’s what Sean eats when he’s high. Sean sits on the counter opposite the stove, swinging his feet on the counter and staring at the movements of Adam’s hands as he arranges the cheese into the sandwich.

As Adam gets the grilled cheese into the pan, Sean starts singing. It’s a soft and lovely melody, the words falling off Sean’s lips like honey, slow and sweet. “ _Wise men say only fools fall in love..._ ”

Adam’s smile widens. He flips the sandwich as Sean continues, haltingly but still on rhythm, “ _But I can’t help… falling in love, with… you._ ”

When Adam turns to Sean, sandwich done and plate in hand, Sean is humming the tune. Adam approaches him and offers Sean the plate. Sean takes it, extending both hands and laying the plate on the counter beside him, maintaining eye contact with the sandwich at all times and humming. Once Sean is sure that the plate is on the counter and not going anywhere, he extends both hands to Adam next. Adam takes a step forward, hips brushing Sean’s knees, hands settling on Sean’s thighs.

Sean’s hands find Adam’s shoulders, his fingers tapping the slow, impatient rhythm to match his humming. Sean mumbles “ _Falling in love…”_ before he leans in and presses a kiss to Adam’s nose, sloppy and a bit off-center. When Sean pulls back and looks at Adam with bloodshot eyes, wobbling a bit and sitting still, he says, “Boop!”

Sean breaks into a giggle fit, hands falling off Adam’s shoulders as he writhes on the counter at the joke. Adam tries to look disgruntled. He really does. But Sean is too cute, the way he giggles breathlessly at noise he himself has made.

Adam’s hands squeeze their hold on Sean’s thighs. The contact seems to bring Sean back to the moment, and so Sean blinks, sighs happily, says, “Adam.”

Adam nods and is about to say something, do something, but Sean looks around and rediscovers his grilled cheese. Sean gasps as if he’s just been thrown a surprise birthday party. He picks the sandwich off the plate and digs into it, completely forgetting Adam’s presence.

Adam sighs, shakes his head, presses a kiss to Sean’s cheek. “Enjoy your sandwich, Spoole.”

Sean nods and, with a full mouth, starts humming the tune again. As Adam washes the dishes and pours Sean some milk, he sings in tune with Sean’s hums. “ _But I, can’t help, falling in love with you…._ ”

 

* * *

 

** II. Elyse **

They’re in bed. It’s a Wednesday, 11am with the sunlight streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows of Adam’s master bedroom. Elyse has pressed herself every which way against Adam while they slept, and now she lays herself on Adam’s bare chest while Adam holds her, a hand wrapped around her bare back.

Adam wakes up then, slipping from half to full consciousness with fuzzy edges around his reality while Elyse traces warm fingers on the skin of his stomach.

Adam takes in a deep breath and stretches himself awake, and as his eyes slip open, he sees Elyse lean down to press a kiss to the spot on Adam’s stomach where her fingers just were. Adam’s nose wrinkles at the tickle of her hair as it drapes itself over Adam’s torso and hides her face as she lays five kisses, soft as daylight, up his stomach to the bottom of his ribcage.

Adam smacks his lips and yawns, watches as Elyse turns her face to him, her eyes wide awake already. She says, “Good morning.”

Adam smiles small and says nothing, watches as Elyse drags herself up, her skin brushing against his, and she dips down again once she reaches his neck. She drops another trail of kisses, sweet and slow, on his collarbone.

He sighs out and melts back down onto the mattress, reveling in the sunlight and the softness of his morning.

He says, “Good morning,” and he feels Elyse smile against where she presses her mouth, on the juncture of his shoulder and neck.

 

* * *

 

** III. James **

Adam hears the wind whipping past his motorcycle helmet, feels James’ hands fidgeting at his waistline as he hangs onto him for safety. Adam takes a wide turn, a fast turn, and he feels James’ arms tighten around his waist. Adam knows James doesn’t do it because he’s scared of falling off or of crashing or anything like that. He squeezes because he’s excited. Delighted. Aroused.

The midday sun shines above them, giving Adam a sort of dull thrum under his skin at the warmth of the day and the contact of James against the length of his back. James fidgets again, tries fitting his forehead in the almost nonexistent space between Adam’s helmet and back. He fits, somehow, and Adam feels James’ chest heave with heavy breaths as they make their way down a familiar street and prepare to turn again, this time into their apartment complex.

When they get into the garage, James is practically shaking with bottled up adrenaline. He unwinds his arms from Adam’s waist and Adam turns off the bike, takes off his helmet, kicks the motorcycle stand down. Adam slips off from the bike, while James stays on his seat. Adam walks to the garage door and pockets his keys, puts his motorcycle helmet on the shelf.

He turns around to ask James if he’s okay, if he liked the ride, if he’s hungry, but as he turns he finds that James is already there, eyes wide and agitated, stance impatient. Adam didn’t hear him move, is the thing. So he sucks in a tight breath as James’ arms bracket his body, settling on either side of him, watching as James’ eyes move from Adam’s face to his neck, and James leans into Adam’s space, presses an open mouthed kiss to the space between Adam’s jacket and his jaw, right on the jugular pumping under his skin.

James takes in a shaky breath, Adam feels how James’ lips tremble with it, how his chest rumbles with a barely contained groan. James lips close against Adam’s jugular and Adam half wishes he had used teeth instead.

James presses another kiss to Adam’s neck, this one closed mouthed and to Adam’s windpipe. The pressure of it is fleeting and alien and it feels like he’s suffocating for half a second, feels as if James is restricting his breathing.

James pulls back though, and, because he’s James, he drops his eyes lower, drops his arms where they were holding Adam in place, drops to his knees.

Adam’s back stiffens as he watches James train his eyes on Adam’s crotch, now at eye-level. Adam stutters out a breath, scrambles his hands on the wall for purchase, something to ground him. He warns, “This garage isn’t private.”

James cuts his gaze up at him, eyes sharp and smile violent, destructive. James says, “I know,” and he goes to work.

 

* * *

 

** IV. Bruce **

They’re on the roof, leaning over the edge of the pool as they look out onto the setting sun of Los Santos. Bruce says, “Remember when we watched sunsets from the roof of the liquor store on the corner?”

Adam chuckles at the memory, feels the two glasses of champagne they’ve had make his smile come easier. “You almost busted your ass every time we climbed up, yeah.”

Bruce bumps Adam’s arm with his elbow. “Hey, I made it, didn’t I?”

Adam sighs happily, “Yeah. We made it.”

There’s a beat of silence that passes through them, a comfortable one, and it makes Adam glance over at Bruce. He catches Bruce’s eyes, noticing that Bruce was staring openly, fondly, unabashedly. Adam’s smile is soft, he feels the water stir between them as Bruce closes the gap between them. Bruce’s eyelids flutter as he leans up and presses dry lips to Adam’s forehead. Adam’s eyes slip closed, feeling Bruce’s kiss against his skin, his beard tickling his face as Bruce ghosts his lips down Adam’s temple and onto his cheek, pressing another soft kiss there, too.

Adam sighs happily again and slides his eyes open slowly, taking in how Bruce looks in the oranges and yellows of the setting sun as he says, “I love you.”

And Adam says, “I know.”

 

* * *

 

 

** V. Joel **

They’re drunk off the wine and drunk off each other. 12 am and they’re walking down the city streets, holding hands and swinging around their firearms. It was a sting operation disguised as a dinner for two because Joel likes that kind of shit. Some other crew was trying to push their shit on their streets, on _Fakehaus’_ streets.

So Joel asks Adam for help that night, and Adam goes with him. Adam knows from the moment they sit down at the table how the night will go. Joel will have three glasses of wine. Adam will have four. Around the time when they’re both tipsy and ordering dessert, they will loosen their ties and look at each other heavily. Joel will suggest that they should make out. Adam will say, “Not yet.” They will get their dessert and they will share it, two spoons on one plate. Around the last bite, Joel will finish his fourth glass of wine and Adam will start on his fifth. Joel will say something along the lines of, “Nice day for a firefight, isn’t it?” And Adam will nod. They will draw their weapons without fanfare and approach the table in the corner, where the shitty drug dealers sit drinking champagne. Joel will smile and point his gun. Adam will swallow his smile and point his gun. Joel will say, “Don’t fuck with Fakehaus.” They will open fire. They will leave no drug dealers alive. Adam will leave a business card that reads _Fakehaus, Inc._ They will drop two hundred dollar bills on the table, grab the rest of the wine, and leave through the back door.

As Adam predicts, so the night goes. They finish the wine bottle before they’re even two blocks away from the restaurant, right around the same time the police sirens starts, and they have the state of mind to pocket their guns, giggling while they do so. They stumble down the streets high on love and family and owning the city, the streets, and everything they lay eyes on. They crash against walls and laugh into each other’s necks as they stop and regain their balance. Adam feels happy.

On the corner of the fifth block they walk down, Joel stands by the stoplight and raises his arms over his head. He laughs uproariously, contagiously, his back bending as he looks up at the sky and he proclaims on breathless lungs, “I rule this city! I am its king!”

Adam behind him watches him, comparing him to firecrackers in his addled brain. Joel lowers his arms and turns to Adam, eyes and smile shining. Adam feels a laugh punch itself out of his chest and he bows, aiming for sarcastic but coming off as sincere when he says, “My liege.”

Joel walks over, holds his hand out to Adam, and says, “Kiss the ring, kiss my hand.”

Adam takes Joel’s hand and kisses the back of it, pressing three kisses there while Joel stifles his giggles.

When Adam straightens up, Joel’s smile is softer, more contained. He steps towards Adam, crowding him up against the wall Adam didn’t know he was leaning on, and Joel presses a kiss to the corner of Adam’s mouth. Adam gulps down a breath at the touch and whispers, “Your majesty.”

Joel grins, presses another kiss to Adam’s cheek and takes a step back, dances out of Adam’s reach. He walks to the edge of the sidewalk, toes touching the white of the street crossing, and says, “Goddamn right.”

 

* * *

 

** VI. Lawrence **

It’s 3 in the morning when Lawrence gets back from the job. The kitchen is dark where Adam stands in it, wiping down the counter after having made Matt hot chocolate. Matt sits at the couch watching an infomercial when Lawrence unlocks the door and walks into the apartment. He smells like blood and gunpowder, is holding his mask in one of his black-gloved hands, his keys in the other, his glasses are clipped to the collar of his shirt.

Lawrence walks into the kitchen, passing Matt’s gaze and dropping his belongings on the counter. Adam looks up as he finishes wiping the counter and asks, “How was it?”

Lawrence shrugs and hums, says, “They screamed a lot.”

Adam nods. That’s never good.

Lawrence takes small steps toward Adam, fidgety and unsure of himself. Adam’s face softens. He drops the rag into the sink and leans against the counter, opens his stance and says, “C’mere.”

Lawrence goes. He walks into Adam’s space, into Adam’s chest, wraps strong arms around Adam’s torso. Adam lets him tangle their limbs together, arms and legs indistinguishable from a distance. Lawrence leans into Adam’s face, presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes. Lawrence whispers out a raw but measured, “ _Fuck._ ”

Adam brings his hands down Lawrence’s back, searching for the hem of his jacket and finding it, slipping his fingers up the back of Lawrence’s clothes, touching skin to skin. Lawrence breathes out, deeply and raggedly, and his eyelids flutter. Adam looks straight into Lawrence’s closed eyelids, fluttering eyelids, and he presses in closer, touches the tip of his nose to Lawrence’s cheek and flutters his eyes, too. Their eyelashes brush each other and it makes Lawrence breathe in sharply before he melts against Adam, brushing their eyelashes together again. Adam nudges his nose against Lawrence’s and Lawrence answers with a nudge back.

They stand there, breathing in each other’s air, until Adam feels Lawrence sagging against him, his eyelids heavy with sleep.

Adam hums, says, “Come on. Shower then bed.”

Lawrence makes a sleepy noise at the back of his throat but follows him down the hallway anyway.

 

* * *

 

** VII. Matt **

They’re insomnia buddies. That’s how it’s always been. While everyone else sleeps semi-regular hours, Adam and Matt stay up planning, talking, watching television, playing video games, driving down the wrong side of the road at 4 in the morning.

Tonight is a driving night. Adam is at the helm while Matt rests his head on his crossed arms, leaning on the jamb of the open window. The wind ruffles his hair as the car headlights shine on the empty, black road. The radio plays a soft ballad in the background and it mixes well with the sound of the wind whipping into the car, Adam thinks. He likes this. Likes this quiet, likes this controlled noise. Likes the company.

Adam slows down as his turn comes up and he thinks he hears Matt sigh beside him, but the sound is lost in the wind as he accelerates again.

They drive up the well-packed dirt road as far as their car can take them. Adam stops the car in front of the chain link fence, parks there, and they wordlessly get out of the car. They huff with effort and climb the fence, the metal rattling as they traverse it. The sound of their feet landing on the packed ground is heard before Adam mumbles out, “Maximum effort.” And it makes Matt flash him a smile.

They walk behind the letters of the Vinewood sign, passing V, I, N, E, W, and O before settling on the second O and starting their climb. They put hand over foot, climbing up the ladder like they’ve done many times before. It’s nothing new for them by now. They’ve already carved their names into the metal here, made this place their own with intention and feeling rather than by possession.

Matt gets up to the top first and he offers Adam his hand. Adam takes it and hoists himself up next to Matt, both of them breathless and just a little giddy, smiling at each other as they rearrange themselves on the platform that just barely holds the both of them. Their legs hang off the side, banging on the front of the O as they swing them and making a racket. Adam hasn’t let go of Matt’s hand. Matt says nothing about it as their entwined hand rests in the dip of their joined thighs.

Adam sighs and looks out across the vast cityscape, far from the bustle and noise but still close enough to feel the sleepless, calm energy. He turns his head up, looking at the few stars above them, at the clouds that cover the moon.

Beside Adam, Matt sighs deeply. Adam turns his head and watches as Matt’s chin drops, breathing in measured breaths. Adam watches as Matt adjusts their joined hands, bringing his hand under Adam’s and cradling Adam’s hand in his palm. Matt tugs Adam’s hand to his mouth and Adam watches as Matt presses his mouth to the index finger, laying a soft kiss on the tip of his digit. Matt moves Adam’s hand, adjusting it as he presses kisses to the other four fingertips, each one as gentle as the last.

Matt ends with Adam’s thumb, the kiss lingering as Matt looks up at Adam and Adam smiles so softly, so goddamn fondly. He moves his hand, jostles it from Matt’s mouth and instead presses his palm on Matt’s cheek, stroking Matt’s cheekbone with his thumb.

Matt turns his head into Adam’s hand and kisses his palm, giving him the one last finishing kiss before he closes his eyes and leans into Adam’s side basking in the warmth Adam gives off, warding against the cold wind blowing on them in the night.

 


End file.
